


I Will Follow You Into The Dark

by ariannalockett



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Wings, Castiel wings, Castiel's Wings, Death Cab for Cutie, F/M, Lucifer - Freeform, Lucifer's Cage, Supernatural - Freeform, season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 01:30:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4687337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariannalockett/pseuds/ariannalockett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SPOILERS (Based in end of season 5)</p>
<p>Lily, Sam and Dean's good friend- practically sister- is worried about Sam's risky plan to get Lucifer back into his cage. While she is alone and worrying, a certain angel comes to comfort her</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Follow You Into The Dark

I wander outside in the junk yard, as I like to call it, meandering through the maze of cars of Bobby's yard. I have a warm chai tea sloshing around in a cup, tucked in close to my chest as I shuffle forward slowly. My head is down, staring at it, observing the ripples breaking through the steamy surface with each vibration of my careful footsteps. The crisp, night air pricks through the fibres of the sweater I stole from Sam, nipping at my skin, so I clutch the mug of chai tea tightly, allowing its warmth to fill my chest and spread through my core. Outside its quiet, and peaceful, out of town boundary. Trees on either side of Bobby's small, but homey place stand as silhouettes against the dark purple sky, interrupted only by dots of starlight. The moon is hidden behind a thin, straggly cloud, stretching like fingers across the late evening horizon. I can catch the scent of forest, wafting toward me on the light breeze, tangled with the smell of ancient, broken cars. 

The dusty rock and dirt ground crunches under my feet as I continue my stroll up until I reach my destination. I didn't think I had one, but subconsciously, I suppose I did, no matter the long loop I took to arrive here. I realize all of this as I slow to a stop next to the Impala. I stare at it longingly, trailing the fingers of my right hand along its cool, black, and smooth surface. Dean would probably get upset at me if he ever saw, but I climb up onto the hood of the car anyway, aware that he is too upset to care or notice.

Pulling my legs up to my chest, I rest my mug on my knees, and take short sips, silent, with only the buzz of my own thoughts to accompany me in the darkness. Finishing my tea, I discard the mug carelessly, perhaps setting it down on the hood next to me too hard. But much like Dean, I'm too numb to care, though.

Dean is in the house drinking his ass off. Sam is a wreck. Bobby doesn't even have operable legs. Castiel is who knows where, when our family could really use him here. I consider praying to him, but shoot the idea down when my heart cracks to think I'm worthy to steal him from his own family drama. We bug him too much. Best I leave him be.

"Holy hell," I whisper, my shoulders collapsing inwards to frame my sigh. Without my tea to distract me, I chew on my lips in a worried habit. 

I wish I knew what I could do for them. This whole end of the world, armageddon, apocalypse situation is getting out of hand, and I can see everyone losing their grip. Dean, the strongest of us all- my example- is barely capable of standing, grasping tightly to a bottle at any free moment to attempt drowning his sorrows. It hasn't been working. And I know he knows that. I can see it in the flat shade of his otherwise bright eyes.

Sam is struggling with his supposed role as Lucifer's vessel. I've tried talking to him about it, trying to understand exactly why he wants to do it and why, but he hasn't said much. I think he's worried I would tell Dean, and that's a fair accusation. Dean and I do all we can to look after Sam. Although he isn't my brother, I see him as one. I see them both as one. I'm just concerned. That he has this crazy insane plan to accept Lucifer and then fight him from the inside. What if it doesn't work? And even worse... what if it does? Our little Sammy would go with Lucifer to hell.

I understand his desires now- his sense of responsibility. I've thought about it often, but despite being able to empathize, I can't let him go. How could I possibly let him go? Sacrifice himself? Leave him to tumble to the cage, alone, like that?

I'm reminded of a song then. A cherished melody I've known much of my life. It's a favourite of mine, and the lyrics describe many of our life situations well. I'll find myself listening to it often, its soft strumming and the singer's whisper of a voice lulling me to sleep.

I begin to sing it quietly, letting the words of it wash over me, and sink in. Give me courage for tomorrow, and all the things I wish to do. I often turn to music to fill in the cold, numbing emptiness inside me where reason should be. Music does so much for me, and I haven't sung in ages. Not like this.

"Love of mine  
Someday you will die  
But I'll be close behind  
I'll follow you into the dark  
No blinding light  
Or tunnels to gates of white  
Just our hands clasped so tight  
Waiting for the hint of a spark  
If heaven and hell decide  
That they both are satisfied  
Illuminate the noes   
On their vacancy signs  
If there's no one beside you  
When your soul embarks  
Then I'll follow you into the dark."

I consider stopping there, but decide to go on. The serious relation between the character of the song, and me, strikes me hard, so tears begin to drip down my cheek as I continue. Drawing to a close, my voice is breaking from the strain of refrained sobs in my throat, and I immediately dissolve into more tears as soon as I've finished holding the last note.

As I bury my face into my knees, I think about how alone I am. How alone we all are. There's no God above to have faith in, no human or Hunter to understand that isn't as torn apart and useless as me, certainly no regular humans to understand, not even the angels...

"Lily." I hear a gruff voice say, his tone lowered with concern.

I lift my head just to see Castiel standing there, watching me hesitantly. Narrowing my eyes at him through the curtain of hair falling in my face, I mutter for him to leave me alone. I'm alone, and I want him to just let me take that in, motivate me for what I need to do tomorrow.

He only sighs, sympathetically, and advances, hands in front as if to disarm me. "I apologize... but I don't wish to leave you here like this. I don't think that would be right."

When I don't answer, he asks kindly, "What's wrong?"

I shake my head, and close my eyes, blinking away the moisture as if it isn't too late to disguise my hurt from the angel. 

I feel his gaze on me, intent, and focused. It's quite possible he's reading my thoughts. "It's Dean. And Sam. You're worried about them," Castiel notes. 

I nod my head, and hearing it out loud, I can't contain the next few tears leaking from the corner of my closed eyes. If Cas weren't here, I would succumb, and let it consume me, let it all out so that tomorrow I wouldn't need to feel anything because I'd be hollow.

Castiel sort of clambers, sort of jumps, onto the hood of the car and sits next to me. I could almost laugh at how unusual this action was for the stiff little angel next to me, especially in his long, draping trench coat, had it not been the day before we all knew Sam was going to die one way or another.

An awkward silence blankets the air, consisting of me wiping up my tears, observing Castiel as he stares up at the night sky. I get distracted by him, then, momentarily forgetting. There's so much wonder and fascination to find in his sparkling blue eyes, particularly while they're illuminated, and made iridescent by the moonlight. I don't know why he's here with me, but after my breathing has steadied, and my throat has stopped itching, I decide I don't mind his humble, assuring presence. Perhaps it's better this way. Spending this time with him before I leave, assuring myself that Castiel will take good care of Dean and Bobby in mine and Sam's absence.

"You know..." He begins. I stare at his pink lips as they move, parted, his mouth open to form his words. With his head bent upwards, his neck stretched, I can see his Adam's apple pushing through the exterior of his throat, lodged for his deep voice. "Stars are very fascinating, really. Up close they're the size of planets and suns, but from here we can see them only as tiny specks in the night sky. They fill all the vast space of galaxies my Father has created, and are an integral part of heaven's skies as well. But not hell." He tears his sight from the sky then, turning his attention to me. Very straight, and cautious, he tells me, "There's no stars in hell."

I sigh and sit back on my hands. "What are you trying to say Cas?"

He glances down at my newly exposed hand, and lays his over mine slowly. His touch electrifies my skin, and I flinch slightly, surprised at his motion of comfort. He doesn't appear to notice, or rather mind, and leans into me with his expression serious, his eyebrows lowered over his eyes to cast shadows over the marvellous blue. I would identify this look as his display of concern.

"Your mission is suicide," he warns. 

"Cas, I appreciate the concern but I don't want to hear anything about it. I've made up my mind. Someone needs to go with him, and Dean has already done too much. Dean deserves a life after this is all over, so it can't be him. He's needed here, Bobby's needed here, so it has to be me who goes."

"And what about me? Why shouldn't I go? I am involved." He wonders, cocking his head to the side in that adorable way he does.

I snort with disapproving laughter. "An angel isn't gonna go to hell."

"Lucifer's an angel."

"A fallen angel."

"I've fallen," Castiel reminds me.

I shake my head, and then spluttering furiously, I manage to explain, "It's just out of the question, you can't go there, you're needed up here like everyone else. If I go with Sam then who's going to watch over Dean? You need to stay. For him."

Castiel considers this a moment, weighing my arguments in his thoughts. Then, having picked through them, agreeing or disagreeing- I am not sure- he questions me again. "Why do you want to do this?"

"I've told you," I tell him.

He shakes his head. "No, you haven't."

"So Sam isn't alone, Cas!" I gesture wildly, trying to convey my message obvious enough for the angel next to me to get it.

"But you don't love him," Castiel states. When my jaw drops, offended, he corrects himself and elaborates. "I just meant that you don't love him in a romantic sense. Isn't this a gesture often associated with affection?"

"He's family. Dean would do it."

"Yet I don't see him out here, alone, planning," Castiel says. 

I bite my lip, scraping it through the edges of my teeth. "I suppose I just want to do something honourable."

"I believe Sam does as well," Castiel says, adjusting his position, and letting go of my hand to tuck both of his under his thighs. He stares forward, thinking aloud, sharing his opinion with little tosses of his head back and forth. "He's made a mistake, and he feels its his responsibility to make up for it by cleaning up his mess. To do that, he feels it as... necessary, to sacrifice himself."

I sit up like him, and drop my head, staring into my lap. When I haven't responded for several minutes, he adds, his eyes watching my face from the side for a reaction, "None of this is your fault, Lily."

I hold my hands out in front of me, imagining the weight and guilt concealed in their tissues. "But Sam, I just... I can't..."

"Lily, look at me." I let my hands fall into my lap, and I twist my head away from him. He sighs, and with a light plead stretching his voice, asks, "Please."

I close my eyes, and after wiping my face from all emotion, I open them to stare at him, dead-eyed. "What?"

He doesn't say anything, but something in his slightly parted lips illustrates that he has many words, but has now lost his trust in their effectiveness.

I roll my eyes. "Cas."

He swallows, and then averts his eyes from my intense gaze, looking instead at his own hand, pressed against the black metal of the Impala's hood. His fingers are spread out into the shape of a star, sturdy, and warm, I recall from when they had touched me. He swallows, and then tilting his head thoughtfully, asks me, "What was that song you were singing earlier? It was very beautiful."

Taken aback, not expecting that or aware that he'd heard me at all, I falter for the title. "Um, uh... It was 'I Will Follow You Into The Dark' by Death Cab for Cutie."

"I enjoyed hearing you sing," he tells me, finding the courage to look up at me again. "You have a lovely voice."

"You were listening?"

"I sensed your sadness, so I came to comfort you, but didn't want to interrupt your singing. It was the most beautiful sound I've heard, and I didn't want you to stop, both because it was wonderful, and... I could tell it made you feel better."

My heart cracks, and a wave of emotion surges within me, pushing me towards him. "Cas, I..."

He swallows- did his eyes just flick nervously?- and returns to the matter at hand. "I don't find it wise for you to go with him tomorrow. You're needed as much as Dean, Bobby, or I. Here."

I grimace. "For my voice?"

He almost smiles, I catch the corner of his lips twitch. "Well, yes, I'm sure your singing could offer us good comfort, it does for me, but... there's more." His voice descends attractively on the more, beckoning me near him, peaking my interest in what possibilities he hides in it. 

"More?" I ask, leaning towards him a slight bit, my lip caught between my teeth.

"Yes, more," he stalls, looking down into my eyes, uncertain, and wary of where the conversation has lead us. 

My heart pounds, my breaths rising beyond my control or full consciousness. Much like him, I'm unsure of the results of this conversation, but I'm curious as well, suddenly discovering bursts of emotion towards him that I didn't recognize before. I notice our close proximity, which also didn't occur to me earlier, and the air between us crackles. Maybe it's his celestial energy bouncing off the mortality of my skin, but there's something in the curve of his posture that suggests otherwise, as if he could feel it too, and he was allowing his similar realization of it to sink in. 

Shyly, I dip my head a little, and peer up at him through a stray lock of hair dangling in my line of vision. "I don't suppose you would give me any more details?"

My lack of boldness in my manner seems to encourage him, and helps make him more comfortable. I asked him, though, which is a new bravery I wouldn't typically convey. He smiles sweetly, and then as before, covers my hand with his, this time going further as to lace his fingers in mine. The same zap of electricity sparks at the contact. When I welcome the flare, it's feel is parallel in likeness to the first time, but outlined by my grant of appreciation.

"You're very talented, Lily," he shares. "Compassionate, dedicated, and gentle."

I smirk sarcastically, remembering all the times I've been upset and angry, and far from 'gentle', like when Sam first told me his plan. His look cuts off my short laughter. 

"Don't waste your gifts just to lighten a load you're not meant to bear," he advises. "Stay here. With Bobby, Dean... and me."

I smile half-heartedly. "I wish it was that easy."

"It is," he insists, grasping my hand tighter. Using it, he drags me into him gracefully, and then keeps me there by holding my face in his free hand. I lean into his touch, still with the slight crooked smile I wore moments ago, wavering with dubiety.

The angel traces circles over my skin with his thumbs, this small action like many others from tonight manifesting the characteristics of humanity he has slowly begun to adopt. "It has to be," he says. "I don't know how else to make you stay." 

There's probably something, I think in my head, my heart fluttering wildly, but immediately I brush the thought off, refusing to say anything out loud about it. My mind is set, and to unwind my self-perceived fate now would only prove to make things more complicated.

Instead of replying, I just move away from his touch, dropping his hand. His beckonings are too tempting, too open and too simple. Too sweet for a sour soul like mine. If I let him talk me out of this, I'll let him take me into his wake as replacement. I can't be falling for anyone when I'm on a mission.

He frowns at me, a flash of hurt flickering over the glaze of his eyes. "Did I make you uncomfortable?" 

I shake my head, and keep my head down. "No. The exact opposite," I mumble truthfully.

"I don't understand, I thought humans appreciated touch."

I sigh, the rush of air leaving my mouth with bounces of tired laughter. "We do, but I don't want that. It's too... distracting."

"I'm sorry," he says. "I guess I just don't know how to handle these... feelings, yet. I'm not accustomed to human-like sensations."

I laugh again and look at him, my eyebrows knit with confusion. "What do you mean sensations?"

He glances at his hands, the one I abandoned twitching slightly in his lap. "I'm not sure. All I know..." He lifts his eyes to meet mine. His gaze, and the curious focus swirling in the blue, pierces through me, and I suddenly feel stiff with anxiety. He squints, scouring my face for an answer. "... is I don't want you to go. And it feels selfish. Overwhelming."

"On earth we call that caring," I tell him, purposely ignoring his use of the word selfish to describe it.

He shakes his head, and expels a frustrated blow of air. "No, that's not it. I know what caring is. I care for Dean. For you it is different. Similar, but different."

My throat tightens, and my breath catches, tumbling backwards down my windpipe. Wide-eyed, I watch as he experiments, my heart rate gathering speed as the space between us closes and he reaches out to take my face in his hand, trying again. His vessel's skin meets mine, and I shiver, the fields of goosebumps on my skin rippling over my entire surface pleasantly. I shouldn't, I know I shouldn't, but I can't resist closing my eyes to lean into him, resting my forehead against his. My mouth is open, breathing in his scent, tasting it. An aroma similar to the night air; cool, and fresh like a spring breeze, fills me, chasing away my stubbornness.

I open my eyes to find his near, sliding open to pour their intensity into mine. The walls built around my heart crack under the rush, and the castle of glass he stares through that is me quivers on its foundations. I'm gone now. It's too late.

He slips his other hand over my waist, and twists me to face him, the distance between us shrinking quickly when I take some initiative to throw my legs over his lap. At the same time as I lay a hand on his shoulder to steady me, hanging it loosely so just my fingertips anchor me against him, my hand lowers to rest on his chest, he slides his fingers into my hair, and brings our noses together. Our eyes fall closed again, soothing each other with the expectation hiding in our nervous breaths. 

"I won't let you sacrifice yourself," He whispers, his lips barely brushing over mine. 

My stomach churns with longing, and the muscles of my hands clench his trench coat collar into a fist. "And if I do?"

"I'll just raise you, like I did Dean," he tells me. "So your efforts would be futile."

I laugh, its strength washed out by my high breaths. "Oh yeah?"

Lured by my question, he angles his face, and I sit there waiting as he hesitates a short second, probably confirming in his mind that he's doing this right. Then, he pushes his lips over mine, quickly muttering a yes before he kisses me to answer my question. His lips move hungrier than I would expect from an angel, but I don't mind, kissing him back with equal fervour. He coaxes hums of appreciation from me as his hands run through my hair, and down my neck, each touch he blesses me with causing my head to spin, full of the images of the stars above us. I imagine them swirling, stirring into a storm above our heads. Becoming increasingly light-headed and absorbed, my body sways into him, my mind quickly retreating to the safety of the moment, rather than lingering around my fear for tomorrow.

He helps me along, reeling me in, desiring the full force of my presence as he bites the bottom of my lip, drawing a gasp of surprise from me. Clearly, his years of observing human kind weren't wasted. With my lips parted, he slips his tongue into my mouth, scraping it along the edges of my teeth, and then I'm in his lap, knotting us together by wrapping my arms around his neck. I tie my fingers in his messy hair, toying with its length, tugging and scrunching it in my hands. I press my body right up against his so that our chests bump in rhythm to our breathing.

Then his hands are on the small of my back, steadying me, sliding lower. 

"Easy, angel," I tease.

Letting out a low growl at the base of his throat, his hands tighten around my waist and then he shoves me off his lap just to push my back down onto the hood of the Impala. I shudder as he does, feeling the cold of the metal through the thin material of Sam's worn out sweater. My shivering doesn't cease there as Cas climbs over me, and then buries his face in my neck, kissing my skin. I gasp, and then sink back into the cold of the hood, absorbing the feel of his weight on me. As the goosebumps rise over the expanse of my arms and legs, I allow his hands to smooth them down, and the warmth radiating from his body to still me. I wonder then if the warmth is his celestial energy, or from his vessel. Maybe I'll never really know, but I decide I like my first theory. As attractive as his vessel is, it isn't Castiel, not really, and despite my growing fondness of his suit as we kiss, I try to imagine what Castiel, the angel, may look like. 

As I picture wings sprouting from between his shoulder blades, my hands wander up his chest and then slide over his shoulders to his back. Castiel is busy leaving a trail of kisses over my collarbone, but I continue to explore the images in my mind, my hand subconsciously working over the area of him I imagine. I don't realize what I'm doing, until in response to my hand starting a line down his spine, the angel shivers, and gasps. I hear a whoosh, like a sheet on a drying line flapping in the wind, followed closely by the scent of mint combined with spring flowers. My hand hits a new and unexpected appendage in his back, just off his spine, right where I was envisioning his wings to be. I snap awake, opening my eyes for them to be greeted by the sight of long, feathered wings rising from Castiel's back. They shimmer in the moonlight, pleochroic like crystals. My jaw drops, and I inhale sharply with awed surprise. If I remembered Sam at all, he was completely wiped from my mind now.

"Cas," I breathe, trying to sit up so I can see them better. 

I blink, and they're still there, still marvellous and large, casting a looming shadow over the two of us.

"Yes?" He asks, scrambling to sit up with me, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. 

"Your wings!" I exclaim, sitting up fully now. He slips off the hood, and stands between my knees, resting his hands on my legs.

Desperate to take full advantage of this opportunity I reach out to touch them, wanting nothing more than to learn about him- learn about my angel.

"You can see them?" He asks me. Something like worry, or fear, encroaches on the tone of his voice. 

"Yes, and they're beautiful!" I say from a daze. I lay my hand over his right wing, and am instantly in love with their texture. I want to feel them, but the moment I touched him, his wing twitched, alarmed. I pull my hand away immediately, worried. "I'm sorry, did that hurt?" 

He swallows, then shakes his head. "No, it... it felt good."

I watch him then as I go to touch them again, waiting for a grunt of disapproval in case he doesn't want me to touch them again. His lips are pursed, uncertain, but he doesn't do anything to make me withdraw from him, so I lay my hand flat on the same wing. Then, because there's still no hint of irritation or pain, I let myself work in the feel of his feathers. Stroking down, he shivers, but there's a glimmer in his eyes right before he closes them that tells me he likes it. I smile, confident now, and I proceed to pet his feathers. As I run my hand over them, I admire how firm his primary feathers are, and ponder how something as gentle as a feather can be lodged so sturdily in a wing. His wings hold more than one colour, and I inspect the progression closely. Near the protrusion of his wings, the colour starts at a raven black, stretching over the ridge. Below and beyond that, there is a dark grey, and falling further the greys melt into lighter shades until his wing tips are a beautiful silvery white. How dark or silver they appear depends on the angle I'm looking from. 

His wings flutter as he lets me explore, and I can feel the tension in his stance increase as I move closer to the pit of his wings. Then as I try digging my fingers into the down of his wings, he shudders violently. I freeze, worried that was too much, but then as he leans into me, touching his forehead to mine, I get the sense the sensation I produced by that simple motion wasn't one unwelcome. 

I'm about to ask him, to make sure, when his wings extend suddenly, and then fly behind me. They press into my back and push me to my feet. His wings must act like a second pair of arms, because they lift me up with such force that I stumble into his human arms. He catches me, and then while I'm in the middle of stuttering to find words, he kisses me, squeezing my sides so tightly I moan into his lips. A smile spreads over my lips as I feel his wings envelop us, concealing us from the outside world. I wish I weren't wearing the sweater now, so I could feel the feathers drifting over my skin. Later, I assure myself. Maybe tomorrow.

After that thought, all at once I remember the start of our conversation, before I knew Cas loved me, before I knew I felt the same way. I was worried about Sam, and Dean, and preparing for tomorrow- but now I want nothing more than to disappear, disintegrate into the night sky with Cas. 

I don't want Sam to wrestle Lucifer. I don't want Dean to let Sam do this. I don't want Castiel to let go of me, so that everything else I don't want can't happen. 

But time doesn't stop for two people, and I know that tomorrow will come, and I'll need to have my mind made up on what I'm going to do. Will I follow Sam to hell so he doesn't have to be alone with Lucifer, or will I stay here, with Cas? 

With the indecision and soul-tearing confliction brewing inside me, I kiss Castiel back more and more desperately. In that, I beg him to make tomorrow evaporate from my mind, the way he's aimed to this whole time. I did need him to comfort me, and I need him now to sweep me into a separate reality, because in this one; I don't know if I'll have the guts to go with Sam. On top of that, I know that when I don't, the guilt of failing to take care of him will eat at me until Sam is free from the devil. 

Oh Cas, I think, why did you have to make me fall for you? 

He breaks the kiss then, after I've had that thought. Lovingly caressing my cheek, he asks, "Will you sing for me, Lily?"

I nod, and smile half-heartedly. "Of course." Anything to distract me from the impending heartbreak tomorrow will force.


End file.
